


Prediction is very difficult, especially about the future

by That_proves_nothing



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, M/M, No Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10073696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_proves_nothing/pseuds/That_proves_nothing
Summary: "Most days, what comes out of Robert’s mouth is the summation of a fully formed plan, unfurled only in his mind, and Aaron’s lucky to get a glimpse at the bottom line."Robert gets a hobby. Aaron worries. They have sex.





	

“We need a shed,” says Robert.

Most days, what comes out of Robert’s mouth is the summation of a fully formed plan, unfurled only in his mind, and Aaron’s lucky to get a glimpse at the bottom line.

And yet, “A shed?”

Robert’s expression verges on outrage of the ‘didn’t you get the memo’ variety. “To put our tools in.”

Aaron definitely didn’t get that memo, “What tools?”

“Gardening tools.”

 _obviously_.

“We don’t have any gardening tools.” Aaron does his best to carry the conversation back to the realms of normal.

“Exactly.” Robert retorts and stomps away.

*

Saturday morning Robert returns home driving Moira’s truck, full to the brim with sacks of soil, potted plants and ten different kinds of fertilizers.

“We live in the countryside, why are you paying for dirt?” Aaron pinches the bridge of his nose, the only plausible storyline here’s that Robert needs to bury a body.

“This family is on its way to getting scurvy.” Robert answers, somewhat accusatorily

Most days, Aaron can barely hear the shift of gears in Robert’s head. They run quick and smooth, unhindered, powered by sheer determination, like out-of-the-box steamroller.

“And is dirt a new cure for scurvy?” Aaron tries to find the path back to reason, since the realm of normal is obviously millions of miles away.

“No. but a vegetable garden is.” Robert says vindicated, “When’s the last time we ate something that didn’t come from a deep fry cooker?”

Aaron shakes his head, hoping scurvy will hurry on up and relieve him from this conversation,“Whatever you say Gillian Mckeith.”

*

“Your husband’s losing it,” says Liv, as he comes in through the kitchen’s door “he’s been at it since dawn.”

Aaron woke up to an empty bed and apparently that is the least of his problems. “How would you know?” he narrows his gaze at her.

She chokes on her cereals, caught. “I was doing my homework?”

He looks out the window to see Robert knee deep in mud, angrily weeding out the plants that climbed wildly on the surrounding walls.

“Is this something I should be worried about?” Aaron asks mostly himself.

Liv comes to stand next to him, “He’s quickly becoming one of those grumpy old men who shouts at kids for touching their rose bushes.”

Robert on a warpath with a particularly stubborn branch, spewing curses as he stumbles back on his bottom.

The branch seems to be winning.

Liv punctuates her point with a ‘did you see that’ glare.

*

“Maybe you should take a break from the gardening for a bit?” Aaron suggests, making sure it doesn’t sound like he thinks Robert is failing at this.

Robert shakes his head, “they say working the land has meditative qualities.”

Aaron swallows a smirk, “and it’s clearly working.” They’ve already ran out of band aids and Paddy subtly hinted that Robert might be in need for a new tetanus shot.

“Agriculture runs in the Sugden blood,” Robert inflates his breast proudly, “besides, you don’t quit things just because they’re hard.”

Aaron thinks they both carry the scars to prove that.

He watches the blisters on Robert’s fingers and newly formed scrapes on his forearms, and wanders whether gardening is something worth carrying scars for.

*

By mid April, Aaron has to admit their backyard is taking on shape - nice colorful bushes on the outskirts, patches of knoll on either side of the stony walkway that leads to a ornate gazebo, and a vegetable plot right there at by the far left corner.

Robert bursts through the door one sunday morning, holding a batch of mini carrots and wearing the semi-manic victorious look of someone who just struck gold.

“Is he ok?” asks Chas, concern in her eyes.

Aaron takes a gulp of his tea, “he thinks he beat scurvy.”

“Chas,” Robert puts on a face of a salesman, about to present his pitch, “could you please tell your son, that vegetables are not just something you use to garnish your hamburger with?”

“They aren’t?” Chas crooks her mouth.

Aaron does his best to hide his smug smile behind his cup. Unsuccessfully if Robert’s loud huff is anything to go by.

*

“Aaron!” Vic stops him as he enters the pub, “we like each other don’t we?”

“Yeah?”

“I mean we’re practically family, right?”

Aaron nods.

“And I didn’t do anything lately to offend or hurt ya, now have I?”

The Sugdens share the same magic ability to pull their own words out of someone else's throat. “No Vic, what ya on about?”

“Please take this Alan Titchmarsh’s version of my brother and give me my old Robert back.”

Aaron stares helplessly at her.

“While you’re at it, there’s also half a stone worth of carrots in my kitchen I need disappearing.”

*

They’ve been eating carrot cakes for a week now. “Mate, I think your skin’s turning orange.” says Adam, “can’t believe I’ve ended up married to the sane one.”

Robert blows into the portacabin like a storm, “Rabbits!”

Adam makes a hard case to argue.

“Do you realise this place is infested with rabbits?” says Robert.

“Rabbits in the english countryside,” Aaron feigns surprise, “who would’ve thought?”

“Well they’ve been messing with the wrong person!” Robert announces, “I declare this the official opening of rabbit season.”

“I should buy Vic something nice,” Adam says as the door shuts behind Robert

*

Aaron returns home to find Robert in his clothes, lying on the bed, an air of resignation about him.

“I’ve been defeated by rodents, Aaron.”

Aaron smiles fondly, as he lies beside Robert “It’s been a battle proudly fought.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Oh, trust me, I know.” Aaron begins to slowly unbutton Robert’s shirt. “But, you did not go quietly into that dark night.”

Robert tries to straighten his smile, “they were mean.”

“I’m sure those rabbits were absolutely monstrous” says Aaron as he continues to unzip Robert’s pants “It was a glorious loss.”

“The Sugden name is forever tarnished.”

Aaron maneuvers Robert out of his clothes “it wasn’t exactly blemish free before.”

“You’re sure you want to have sex with a loser,” Robert may have doubts, but his dick seems certain.

“No,” answers Aaron and removes his own shirt, “but I want to have sex with you.”

*

A week later Aaron wakes up and sees some bloke mowing their lawn. Robert is in the living room, leisurely reading a paper.

“Who’s that?” Aaron asks.

“Did you know you can pay 20 quids to people who actually know what they’re doing?”

Aaron smirks “What about the Sugden pride?”

“I realised my forte lies in macro-managing.”

Aaron doesn’t know why he’s surprised anymore, “You’re macro-managing gardening?”

“Yes,” He answers, and Aaron can detect the turn of wheels behind his eyes, “besides I’ve already found something else to invest my talents at.”

“What’s that?”

Most days Aaron regrets asking.

*

In hindsight, Aaron would learn to miss the gardening.

He’s been finding himself spending more and more time at the Woolpack, avoiding the piercing noises of sewing, pounding and sending back at the Mill.

“Does he know ikea is a thing now?” asks Charity.

“Don’t get me started,” Aaron can feel the migraine building behind his temples.

“He has this idea about manly men who furnish their own home, or something.” says Chas.

“I can see the sex appeal of a man who can build things.” Charity concedes.

“Whether he can actually built things is still left to be seen,” says Aaron.

*

“Do you feel like you have too much time on your hands?” asks Aaron. He has to admit seeing Robert applying tools does stir some things in him.

Robert puts down the chisel to look at him.

“No.” Robert crosses his arms. “It’s based on reallocation of time, not a use of reserves.”

“Are you bored?”

Robert shrugs, “just want to keep challenging myself.”

“So you chose carpentry?” Aaron doesn’t know why he feels like he should battle woodworking for Robert’s attention.

“Aaron,” Roberts puts his serious face on,“I’m preserving the holy, ancient connection between man and wood.”

Aaron leans back against the wall, grinning, “I have a wood that needs connecting with.” he nods at his own pants, “not very holly, though.”

Robert’s mouth twitches, he’s on his knees in seconds.

_Take that timber._

*

“What happened to the dining set I’ve ordered for you?” Rebecca asks worried.

“It’s still there,” Aaron says.

“It was custom made, cost an arm and a leg, you know?” she complains.

They’re sharing lattes and grievances at Bob’s.

“He got it into his head that we should be hosting the next family Christmas dinner,” he can’t help but roll his eyes at that, “so he’s building this medieval thing, that’s gonna take half the living space.”

She looks baffled, “Christmas is over six months away.”

“By the rate he’s going, we’ll be lucky to have it ready by next spring.”

Rebecca shudders “and to think I once wanted _that_ ”

There’s nothing really to say to that.

*

The scraps and bruises have been replaced by splinters and deep cuts. The entire house smells like sawdust, that like send, gets everywhere and stays there forever.

“Could you tell Geppetto over there,” shouts Liv as she tramps down the stairs, “that there are other people living in this house, and that we didn’t all sign up to the Robert Sugden built-it-yourself show?”.

Robert lays down his sew, and looks at her through his ridiculous protective goggles.

“Well I didn’t sign up for Ed Sheeran on repeat, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

The migraine is becoming a living physical presence. “I can’t believe I’m missing the quiet of living above a pub.” He moans and slips out before they decide to make him a referee.

*

Surprisingly, it’s late august and the dining table stands solid on all four legs.

Robert flings his arm open, “Shows all ya skeptics,” inviting Aaron to marvel at the wonder that is this dull brown, massive furniture.

Aaron crosses his arms, trying to muster the sufficient enthusiasm, “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“Stable as a house,” Robert knocks on the top. “Go, on, try it out.”

Aaron reluctantly goes over, flattening his hands on the thing and putting all of his weight on his arms. “Not bad.”

Robert presses himself against Aaron back, putting his lips against Aaron’s ear, “how ‘bout we give it a real go, see how it bares”

And maybe it’s the mix of relief of having this thing done with, or the frustration of how much of their shared time was stolen away by it. Maybe it’s finally having the house to themselves, or just maybe it’s the effect Robert has on him. His slowly hardening erection pressing behind, his hot breath on Aaron’s throat, one arm wrapped around his middle, inching its way downward, the other covering Aaron’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

Whatever it is, it makes clothes disappear faster than he can order Robert to go get the lube.

He can already predict the angry red marks, that the pounding against the table will leave on his middle part, the chafes that the unpolished lacquer will break on his skin, almost welcomes it. What he doesn’t anticipates is for one extremely hard push to cause the thing to collapse under them.

“You know Ikea is a thing now.” Aaron says after recovering from the fall.

Robert is unamused.

*

If there was any bright point to Robert’s recent pastimes it’s that they didn’t include Aaron.

“That is exactly our problem.” says Robert and drops a stack of trail maps on the breakfast table.

“Oh no,” Aaron shakes his head vehemently, “the Dingles don’t hike.”

“Well if this Dingle wants to ever see his husband’s penis, he will.”

“I can’t believe I’m being sexmailed to walk through mud.”

“Aaron,” Robert point to a photo on one of the brochures he brought, “we live in one of the nicest place in the western hemisphere, we should be taking advantage of it.”

“Robert,” Aaron is quickly losing his temper, “It’s raining like 350 days out of the year. “ He crosses his arms in defiance, resolution made, “Us northerners are indoor people. That’s why we have pubs.”

*

In the end, hiking is not as horrible as Aaron thought it would be. Sure there are thorns and mud and tiny rocks that get inside your shoes, but there are also stunning views, and gorgeous blossoms, and the sun reflecting on water. Of course he’ll never admit any of that to Robert, the bastard’s too smug as it is.

Robert magically pulls a blanket from his backpack, Aaron has no recollection of ever owning, and sets out a small lunch, that tastes much better than the sum of his parts. It’s probably a screwed up reaction to all these pastorality, but finishing his lunch Aaron finds himself horny as hell.

Good thing they’re alone.

He starts to unzip Robert’s pants, who happily remarks, “see? there's even a peripheral advantage- outdoor sex.”

Aaron shuts him up with his mouth on his dick. 

*

They’re lying naked on the blanket and Aaron starts to remember why sex at home is always better- no wind or bugs.

“This is the last time we ever do this.” he says shivering.

Robert turns to him, surprise on his face, “thought you enjoyed this.”

“This,” Aaron points to the space between them “Yes. That,” he gestures at everything around them, “less so.”

Robert gazes pensively at the sky.

This had been going long enough.

“Go on,” Aaron urges him, “out with it.”

“What?”

“What's with the late need for a hobby?”

“Well,” Robert smiles, “you know what they say about hobbies?”

“No,” Aaron’s baffled, “what?”

“They keep your body active, your mind nimble and your arse out of jail.”

“This is about routine?” Aaron narrows his gaze at him, half amused “What about the whole ‘messed up forever’ speech?”

“I still want it,” Robert gives him an assuring nod, “only, a little less of the messed up and a bit more of the forever. The two seem to be in opposition lately.”

And Aaron gets it, they deserve a little of the mundane normality that pastimes offer. “You know what’s the takeaway from all of this, don’t you?”

Robert shakes his head.

“This,” Aaron nods at their naked bodies, “is the only real constant we have.”

“What?” Robert smirks, “Sex?”

“yeah.”

Robert looks at him speculatively, “You’re saying sex should be my hobby?”

“No,” Aaron smiles mischievously, “I’m saying _I_ should be your hobby,” he puts on the Robert Sugden trademark smarmy smile, “you can do me how often and as much as you like.”

Robert crooks his nose, “Is that what I really sound like?”

“Oh no, “ Aaron shakes his head, “You’re much, much worse.”

Robert leans over to kiss him.,“I guess some things will never change, then.”

“Thank God,” says Aaron and pulls him down by the neck.

 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> This story wasn't exactly planned, just something that has come up while I've been writing my big-ass Robert-centric Au. A little coping tool for all the heavy drama lately (geesh ED writers, can't we get a little break?) Not even sure how I feel about it. Hope you like it, though. 
> 
> Oh, BTW, I'm still pushing the whole Rebecca-Aaron friendship thing, could you tell? ;)


End file.
